But I couldn’t.So I got up and went near the room at which point I heard mother was telling..Oh this is so tasty…hmm..For a second I thought wheth...r father has returned . But he has never returned on the nights he had to do night shift.If so,what is mother is tasting..If father returned and brought something like fried rice..Why they didn’t call me to join them.There were so many questions in my little mind..So I peeked inside the room while opening the door-curtain slowly..Oh my god.. I. It had gotten to thepoint where he'd had to take sick leave from his job, unpaid at thispoint as he'd already been off, but how could he go to sleep? It wasthe same story every time.His therapist told him he was imagining things, that his dreams werenothing but his unconscious self pushing their way in, a way for hisbrain to unpack and resort all the experiences of his life together.The therapist said this in response, mainly, to the subject of Jon'sdreams, specifically the figure within them. More

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